


You've Really Got A Hold On Me

by mvernet



Series: The Blond Beatle Affair [4]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene, Romance, Songfic, The Beatles - Freeform, lovelovelove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During The Finny Foot Affair, Illya is injured and Napoleon must tend to him physically and emotionally.</p><p>A songfic inspired by <i>You’ve Really Got A Hold On Me</i> by The Beatles<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nraB6Jdp8r4</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Really Got A Hold On Me

Illya removed his helmet and stared out of the window of the helicopter while Napoleon checked his gauges and keyed the engine. His eye lingered on the dead bodies littering the square of the picturesque island. All the inhabitants of the island had died of unnatural old age. He watched as the fires he and Napoleon had set destroyed the work of generations of Scottish fishermen and their families. He turned away, unsettled by the burning of the village. Hopefully, they were carrying the answer to the strange affliction in the wooden crate sitting on the empty seat beside him.

Once they were airborne, he began to relax. 

_Napoleon is a marvelous pilot. I trust him with my life. Why can’t I trust him with my heart? Do not think this way, Illya Nickovetch! You know why. Napoleon will tire of you as did Artur and your heart will not survive it again._

Shots rang out before they had cleared the island. Two bullets crashed through the side window and embedded themselves in Illya’s arm. He instinctively grabbed at his wounded arm and stifled a yelp. The pain was intense, like hot pokers that had been sitting long in a winter’s fire were now trying to make their way to his heart through his arm.

Illya watched as Napoleon expertly maneuvered them out of harm’s way. When it was safe, he turned and took in the sight of his injured partner. Illya was pale, sweaty and grasping his arm.

“Illya, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Napoleon. But you better hurry. I’m hungry and I want to get back to London in time for lunch.”

Napoleon smiled and Illya smiled back, encouraging him. They both knew the best thing to do would be to get to London quickly. Napoleon check his gauges again before increasing his speed. The fuel gauge was fluctuating. Then it indicated a steady decline.

“Illya, I think the fuel line was severed. We are not going to make it to London.”

Illya nodded. He knew Napoleon had adjusted a mirror to keep an eye on him.

Napoleon got on the radio and called in a mayday to London headquarters. He would find a place to land and hopefully call again with further instructions.

“Napoleon? I saw on the map many small islands. Mostly just rocks in the sea suitable only for nesting birds. There. Yes. To your right! Ohhhh.” Illya made the mistake of trying to move his arm to point. “Bozhe moy, ahhhhh.”

“Hold on, Illya. I’ll land on that larger one. See it? Then I’ll take care of your arm. You still with me, Solnishko?”

“Da. Da. Fine. I am… ahhhh… fine. Just don’t crash this thing.”

“Promise, partner mine.”

Napoleon watched as the fuel gauge entered the red area and rapidly pointed to empty on the dial. He only had moments left. The engine began to miss as he hovered over the small outcropping of rock. He set his chopper down as the gulls screamed their displeasure at having their sunbathing interrupted by the big metal bird. He pulled of his headgear and reached around to grab hold of Illya.

“How bad? Tell the truth this time.” Napoleon was in full on CEA mode.

“Two bullets in my arm. One went through low, near the elbow. The other is in my upper arm. The bullet is still in it, I think.”

Napoleon ripped his hazmat suit in order assess the damage to his partner. There was a lot of blood still flowing from the wounds, and Illya was growing cold. Napoleon opened a hatch and pulled down the first aid kit. He rummaged around for a field dressing and held it against the injuries to stem the flow of blood. He wrapped the bandages as best he could.

Illya moaned softly. Napoleon looked up and caught his eye. “It hurts, Napoleon.”

Napoleon reached up and stroked Illya’s cheek. “I know. I know. First time shot?”

Illya smiled. “Nyet. I’ve had the pleasure before. American bullet that time. Leg.”

Napoleon shook his head. He was madly in love with someone he would have considered an enemy only a few years before.

“On behalf of my country I offer belated apologies, my dear sir. I hope I can make it up to you somehow.”

“Call in our coordinates to the London office and get me out of here alive and I will call the debt fulfilled.”

“Yes. Sir.” Napoleon saluted and complied.

Illya fell unconscious listening to Napoleon’s calm commanding voice.

~~~O~~~

 

_Hummm. Warm. Strange pillow. Smells like woodsmoke and my Dorogoy. My dear Napoleon._

Illya slowly opened his eyes. A small driftwood fire blazed away in front of him. He was wrapped securely in an army blanket. Napoleon was sitting behind him. One arm was around Illya’s waist, the other cradled the injured arm. As Illya became more aware, he noticed Napoleon was nuzzling his neck and planting small kisses in his hair as he hummed a soft tune.

“N...Napoleon?”

“Shhhh! Everything is alright. You had me worried.” Napoleon held him tighter as he tried to move. “Stay where you are. Don’t move around. You’ll start to bleed again. I didn’t know you had that much blood to spare.”

“Wha?”

Napoleon chuckled. “What, is that we are safe. Help will be here in about an hour. I removed the bullet from your arm. Bandaged it good and tight. That stopped the bleeding finally. Gave you a small dose of Morphine. Made a fire and settled you into my loving arms for a long winter’s nap. How do you feel, Solnishko? Any pain?”

“I...I feel fine. The pain is manageable. Thank you for caring for me.”

“My pleasure.”

“You were… kissing me. Da? Kissing and singing?”

“Humming… a Beatles tune. I don't know the words. You like the Fab Four, you told me.”

“Da. But why were you kissing me?”

“Because I love you, Solnishko. And because you love me.”

“Napoleon! I don’t even like you.”

Napoleon laughed. He moved his head so that he could see Illya struggle not to smile. “You do so like me.”

“Nyet.”

“Da.”

“Nyet.”

I don't like you  
But I love you  
Seems that I'm always  
Thinking of you  
Oh, oh, oh  
You treat me badly  
I love you madly  
You've really got a hold on me  
You've really got a hold on me

“Da.” Napoleon kissed Illya’s cheek. “Da.” He kissed him again. “Tell me you love me.”

“Nyet.”

I don't want you  
But I need you  
Don't want to kiss you  
But I need to  
Oh, oh, oh  
You do me wrong now  
My love is strong now  
You've really got a hold on me  
You've really got a hold on me

“Napoleon. We will only hurt each other. We are great partners and the best of comrades. Is this not enough for you? Why would you want to throw away such a good thing, perhaps even end both our careers. For what? A bit of forbidden passion? An archaic notion that true love conquers all?” 

Illya stopped to take a breath. He was feeling light headed and his arm was throbbing. He desperately wanted to take what Napoleon was offering. But it would go against everything he believed about himself.

Napoleon gently took Illya’s chin and turned it upwards. He looked into his eyes. “Tell me you love me, Solnishko. Please.”

I love you and all I want you to do  
Is just hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me  
Tighter  
Tighter

Illya sighed. “Da. Da, Dorogoy. I love you. But I will not act on this love between us. It will only end in tragedy. I will not kiss you or have the sex with you. I will not let you hurt me. I do not wish to ever hurt you. You are dear to me. Now, hold me tighter. I am cold, hungry and in pain again.”

Napoleon’s smile was wide yet edged with sadness. "Your wish is my command, sire.” He held Illya close. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into Illya's neck breathing in the sunshine scent that warmed his soul. He selfishly wished the rescue would be delayed till he breathed his full of the intoxicating aroma of his Solnishko.

I don’t want to leave you  
Don't want to stay here  
Don't want to spend  
Another day here  
Oh, oh, oh, I want to split now  
I just can’t quit now  
You've really got a hold on me  
You've really got a hold on me

Illya allowed himself the luxury of settling into Napoleon’s arms and letting love into his frozen heart.

_Just a little will not hurt. Just for now. On this little rock in the middle of the sea, I am happy. Till we are rescued, and the world starts turning again._

I love you and all I want you to do  
Is just hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me

You've really got a hold on me  
You've really got a hold on me

 

TBC  
Stay tuned for more songfic adventures starring Napoleon and Illya.


End file.
